Give Me Love
by theebrunettebeauty
Summary: The small moments between Allison and Isaac were the ones that counted the most.


_author's note: Hello my lovely reader's! I'm sorry it's been a few months since I've posted anything. My senior year of high school has been extremely hectic. Hopefully you'll see more from me in the nearby future. Anyhow, this story somehow happened after listening to an allisaac fanmix. The title is inspired by Ed Sheeran's song Give Me Love, which I listened to a majority of writing this. It's more or less an allisaac!au just a fair warning to you. I hope you enjoy! xx_

Give Me Love

Allison knew Isaac Lahey believed he was unlovable. She could see it every time they sat together on her couch to finish homework. He made sure he was always leaning against the armrest on the side of the couch opposite of her, a good three feet of space between their knees. Whenever she would lean forward to get a look at what he had put down as his answer, he would hastily jump up and mutter an excuse about having to use the bathroom, running a slightly shaking hand through his already unkempt hair as he went.

She felt it deep in her chest when she complimented him on a painting he had received a perfect grade on in their art class. He had shaken his head, telling her it was dumb luck and he could have done better. Later that day, she found the piece of art out in the lunch courtyard, stuffed clumsily in a trash can. It was too pretty to be thrown away, she decided, so she pulled it from the mess and returned it to their art teacher, saying Isaac wanted him to have it as a gift.

It was apparent after he had fallen asleep on the ground beside her bed, the cheesy comedy they had been watching long gone from her thoughts. The boy's tall form thrashed back and forth, soft whimpers and quiet moans escaping his lips as he slept. Allison couldn't tear her eyes from him as he pleaded against some unspoken force—his father most likely—begging to not be locked up again in the freezer. The same freezer she had locked Scott in while he was still learning to control his full moon transformation. It seemed as if it were a lifetime ago. Waking him from this vulnerable state would, with no doubt, mortify him, which left her with no other option then to listen to him suffer the rest of the night. She got no sleep.

Then things began to change. Allison couldn't quite put her finger on what did it, but the distant boy she had gotten to know was slowly letting his guard down.

Maybe it was because that while baking chocolate chip cookies for Mrs. McCall's birthday, she was able him to dance with her. The cookies had been Isaac's idea and they still had thirty minutes left to go in the oven. The two of them sat across from each other at Allison's kitchen table, laughing about Stiles outburst from earlier in their English class, eating the left over cookie dough, when suddenly one of Allison's all-time favorite songs began to play over the surround sound speakers that had been left on. She stood up, telling him it was not a song you just couldn't not dance to. After a bit more pleading, she was able him on his feet. Feeling rather bold, she took his hands, placed each on either side of her hips, his shock evident—it was written all over his face—and wrapped her arms around his neck. She began to move them through the small kitchen, him following her lead. He was stone stiff, cautious with the amount of pressure he put on her waist. She gave him gentle pointers and encouraged him when he messed up. Before the pair knew it, they were giggling uncontrollably, while he twirled her in circles as he dramatically took the lead. Allison's heart leapt as he grinned at her in such a beautiful, carefree type of way. She wished she could keep this version of Isaac forever; however, the timer abruptly interrupted the middle of their waltz and he let her go, his reserved expression finding its way back on his face. She watched him turn to take the cookies from the oven and set them on the countertop.

Or perhaps it was due to their visit to the sparkling, blue waters of the Pacific with Scott, Lydia, Stiles and the rest of the gang. Allison pulled up to the ocean, shifting her gear to park in the nearly empty parking lot, and glanced over at the boy beside her with a mischievous smirk growing upon her lips. He raised an eyebrow in question, giving way to her saying something along the lines of, "Last one in has to buy the other person a slushy," and then it was a race to the water. Allison nearly tumbled into a deep hole dug in the sand and Isaac ended up tripping over a beach chair—so much for being a werewolf, eh?—resulting in the brunette's victory as she splashed into the waves. She laughed, sticking her tongue out at him before he came crashing, practically right on top of her, taking her down with him. Sputtering the salty water out of her mouth as she came up for air, she felt his sturdy arms still wrapped loosely around her bare waist. He smiled when she met his eyes, an unexpected air of confidence exerting from his features and flipped his soaking hair off his forehead. The moment was utterly surreal and completely insane in her opinion. Allison Argent did not get starry-eyed over boys, especially when that boy was Isaac Lahey. Then she heard Lydia's loud voice sound, accusing them of being 'jerks' for not waiting for the rest of the group, along with a reminder to 'make sure they didn't forget to apply sunscreen.' They smiled shyly at one another and Isaac gently released her asking, "So about that slushy?" Allison rolled her eyes, giving him a splash in response, and ran toward the shore, the tall boy hot on her heels.

Lydia ended up being the one to tell her she had better make a move on the werewolf soon or else she'd have to deal with the rest of the female population at Beacon Hills High School trying to jump on his 'perfect bod.' Normally she choose to ignore the boy advice her best friend gave her, yet she couldn't help but admit that the girl had a point this time. His body was perfect.

Crap. What was wrong with her?

It took a whole two weeks after her talk with the redhead girl to finally kiss him. Or did he kiss her? The memory of who kissed who didn't matter. All that mattered was the feeling of his lips on hers, gentle and soft at first, then turning into something deeper and more passionate, finding their way to her jaw down to her neck—the thought made her fair face flush. What had begun as a seemingly innocent afterschool jog had led to a heated argument over gosh knows what—honestly, she couldn't remember—which then led to both of them going instantly silent and the rest was history that she wouldn't mind repeating. And the history was repeated. In locked janitor closets. In her car. In the McCall house. Under twinkling, clear night skies. In her bedroom. Under the Eiffel Tower.

Before an altar, in front of their closest friends and family.

Under the sheets of _their_ bed.

Allison smiled as she pressed feather light kisses along Isaac's collarbone, while he slept soundly beside her. The only noise that came from his mouth was his slow breathing. She whispered the three words she knew he never dared thought were possible, over and over.

_"I love you."_

_"I love you."_

_"I love you."_


End file.
